Prince of Bones and Ashes
by yangri
Summary: [ToM AU] He who once was a man of peace became a man of war. Loose-sequel to ToM.


_**A/N: Loose sequel to Trial of Man, don't bother reading it if you haven't read that because this will make absolutely zero sense, I guarantee you.**_

* * *

My earliest memory, I can safely say, was when my mother told me she was going to drown herself in the lake. I cried that night, not even bothering to put on my shoes as I ran out of the house and after her. I took her by the hand and pleaded with her, hoping that my words would not fall on deaf ears. She was deliriously drunk at the time, and it was not the first time she had suggested suicide.

Her story was not particularly uncommon. Trapped in a loveless marriage, she wanted to take the easy way out.

She named me Kimimaro. My father was a member of the main Ōtsutsuki Clan, while my mother was a member of the branch Kaguya Clan. Whatever power she had, my father also possessed, and so she was forced to submit to him.

The grass hurt the bottoms of my feet as I pulled her back from the lake.

"If you die," I told her, "You'll never be able to do what you want to do."

"I don't want to do anything," she replied, her face blank as she stared off into the black waters beyond us.

"Yes you do. You said you wanted to be Empress."

"That was a long time ago."

I thought frantically of what to say. "Everybody wants to do something! You want to be free, don't you? Death isn't freedom!"

She pulled her hand from mine. "Maybe so. But it is mine."

Then she walked into the waters that tempted her, her silken gown flowing around her as she went deeper and deeper until she was fully submerged. I stood rooted to the grass in shock. There is a gap in my memory about what happened next, but I remembering murdering my father and fleeing the country on foot.

I spent most of my adolescence a nomad, mostly sticking close to the bordering forests of Konohagakure. I was angry and alone with nowhere to go. It would have been easier to die, but I refused to follow in the footsteps my mother had taken. The woman she had become was not the woman I had once admired. She had had ambitions and dreams of removing Empress Kaguya from the mantle and taking control of Tsukigakure. She was going to make it the most powerful nation in the world, because she wasn't like Kaguya, who only cared for personal power.

One day, I ran into a traveler.

She had the bluest eyes I had ever encountered, and hair so blonde it was almost yellow.

"Hi!" She lifted a hand in greeting when she saw me sitting on a low tree branch, lost in my thoughts. "Do you know where Konohagakure is? My compass is all haywire and my phone's not picking up any reception!"

I wondered why she didn't just take the railway. There was a station just a few miles from here, but she was dressed as if she planned to travel on foot.

When I didn't answer immediately, she became flustered. "Sorry, was that rude of me? Should I introduce myself? Hmm... Well, in any case, I'm Mei, and I'm from Iwagakure, hm!"

"I... see. My name is Kimimaro." I pointed north. "There's a train station just some miles away from here. Good luck." With that, I hopped off the branch and stalked away.

"Ack! Wait a moment!" It was an effort not to flinch when she grabbed me by the shoulder and spun me around, her face obscuring my field of vision. "Could you please take me there? I have absolutely zero sense of direction, yeah, and I'll get lost pretty quick! Besides," she narrowed her eyes shrewdly, "you don't seem to be doing anything other than enjoying nature, hm."

"I like nature," I told her, and it wasn't a lie.

"In any case, could you _please_ help me? Pretty please?" Mei was persistent, and I relented. There really was no reason to be unkind to her and refuse her pleads.

"Alright then." I offered her a hand. "Hold on."

"Huh? What are you—_ARRGGH! WHAT THE HELL?!_"

A small part of me took amusement in her reaction as we were lifted thirty feet into the air by a giant, bony hand. I settled in its ivory palm, cross-legged, and she shakily did the same. Then she glared at me.

"What kind of witchcraft is this, hm?"

"It's just chakra manipulation," I said mildly.

"Chakra? Seems legit, I guess. I've never seen chakra do this before, though..." Wary, she clung onto my back as the hand, sticking out of the dirt, carved a trench in the land toward the station. It was further than I had first anticipated.

The journey was uneventful, mostly Mei pestering me with questions. I asked her some back.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen!"

"Why are you heading to Konoha?"

"I heard that they have the best schools there for budding scientific investigators, so I'm going there to study. There are so many to choose from, hm!"

"Oh. I heard they have art schools there, too."

"Art? Phooey—who needs art? Science is my passion, not art, hm!"

She was... interesting.

It was when we arrived that I witnessed something truly amazing.

A man grabbing a packet of chips from the contraption called a vending machine.

When he noticed our arrival, he made no comment, merely raising an eyebrow at the sight. But then he stiffened and seemed to choke on the very air itself, and I thought that the fact that Mei and I were riding on a giant skeleton hand had finally hit him. I was wrong.

When my mother first expressed her desire to kill herself, I taught myself how to lip read, in case anything went wrong. It amounted to nothing in the end, but it was useful nevertheless.

He spoke a name, but it fell silent on his lips.

_Dei-da-ra_.

_Deidara._

_Deidara?_

The man regained his composure, and that was when I took a good look at him properly. He carried himself like a man on a mission, poised to attack and defend at any time while maintaining the illusion of languid and slow. Other than that, his appearance was mostly unexciting—he had generic black hair and black eyes—though I supposed many women and men would have found him to be quite handsome.

I helped Mei off.

I don't know what compelled her to, but she marched straight up to the man at the vending machine and introduced herself.

"Hey! Are you waiting for the next train, too? I'm Mei!"

"I... No, I work here. Own the place, actually. I'm Sa—Akaashi. My name is Akaashi."

If she noticed the verbal stumble, she didn't show it. "It's a pretty small place, hm. I don't see anyone else around."

He blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Ah! Was that rude? Sorry."

"No, no. You... have a verbal tick."

"Hm? Oh, yeah! I've had it for as long as I remember." She grew a little withdrawn and self-conscious. "Why? Does it... bother you?"

Akaashi gave a little smile that had a telling sadness behind it. "No," he said, and I could tell that he spoke the truth. "It doesn't bother me at all."

* * *

They fell in love.

It was fast.

Almost as if it wasn't the first time.

With nowhere else to go, I remained at the train station with Akaashi, helping out wherever I could. Every week, Mei would drop by and spend time with her lover. Akaashi was an odd one. Every moment he spent with Mei, he seemed to be experiencing pain and pleasure. Eventually, I found out why.

It started off as a boring, mundane day. I was sweeping the front of the only store in the tiny station when Akaashi suddenly spoke to me.

"Do you believe in reincarnation?"

I turned to look at him. "I'm not sure. Many religions do, though."

He made a noncommittal noise. "Hmph. I wasn't asking about religions, I was asking you."

Akaashi had little patience, I learned quickly. I stayed silent at his barbed tone, not having much to offer to this topic. I liked to think that my mother had gone to Nirvana instead of being reincarnated. She deserved it.

"My name was different once."

I paused. "Is that so?"

"I used to be called Sasori. I fell asleep one night and passed away when I was eighty-seven years old."

Akaashi really was an odd one. Or his soul was.

"You remember your past life?"

"You could say that, yes. I remember everything. All the sins I've committed, and all the ones I loved. I spent a good part of my lifetime killing under the name of a tyrant before I left that behind me. I moved forward. I had three children with her, you know."

He was talking about Mei.

"What... were their names?"

He smiled the sort of smile that could never be faked. "The eldest was a girl—Akane. The second-born was another daughter—Mari. And the youngest was my only son, Hayate."

I needed to know. "Have you told Mei?"

"No." There was no hesitation, and I sensed little regret in his voice. "It's clear she doesn't remember a thing. I've been dropping hints since we first met, but..." Akaashi—Sasori—_Sasori_ shook his head.

"I'm sorry," I offered, and I meant it.

"Hmph. Don't be. My life began with decades of constant lows, but finished with even more decades of constant highs. I don't regret ever living it. If I did, I would regret ever meeting her." Sasori looked him in the eye. "Her name wasn't Mei back then. It was Deidara, and she was one of the most brilliant artists I had ever had the pleasure of knowing and loving."

_Deidara._

That name.

It was once Mei's.

"Why are you telling me this?" I blurted, young and confused.

"Regret," he said abruptly, "Is inevitable. Kimimaro, I want you to live without having those at such a young age. So get out of here and do what you want, you damn brat."

So I did.

But, I must admit, I waited until they had died again—both Akaashi and Mei. Sasori and Deidara. Why?

Because I intended on taking over the world. On fulfilling my mother's dream.

And I did.

* * *

Who am I?

My name is Kimimaro, and I haven't seen Akaashi and Mei for one hundred and twenty years. I am a direct descendant of Empress Kaguya, and her longevity is just one of the things I inherited from her.

I drove this world to the wasteland it is today.

There are no more nations. Merely a monarchy and a dying population, and I sit right on the very top.

I am not a Prince of People, but the ruler of all that remains. A Prince of Bones and Ashes.

I still remember how she screamed at me.

Konohagakure was founded by Hokage Uchiha Izanami. Konohagakure fell by my hand, and Hokage Uchiha Sarada with it. Possessing both the Sharingan and the Byakugan, she fought me as hard as she could. She was the first person to ever injure me so greatly, but she still lost in the end.

The battle between us lasted for two years before she finally passed away.

...

Before I finally killed her.

_"NO!"_

Her screams haunt my dreams. She is nothing but a ghost of the past now, and I have little doubt that her soul still lingers in this barren wasteland of a world, writhing in agony and regret.

In the years following, I suppressed those who resisted, pressing my boot down so hard on humanity that they eventually died, crushed. There was a man, I remember, whose name was Uzumaki Boruto. He was the cousin of Uchiha Sarada, and he was the one who began the trend of assassination attempts that soon died out along with him.

The last town I destroyed in the once-great Konohagakure I don't recall the name of. But there was a magnificent bell tower which I knocked down with my might, and the vastly female-populated citizens fled or died, scattered in the wind like insignificant particles of dust. When I finished my assault, there was only one man left.

He was old—well over a hundred, I was willing to bet—and blind, and armed with nothing except the clothes on his back and the wooden guitar in his frail arms.

And when I walked to him, fully prepared to kill him, he sang me a song.

_Oh, Uchiha Prince so lonely_

_Sitting at the top on a skeleton throne_

_Presiding a kingdom as brittle as bone_

_Imagine a boy so cruel as to rule_

_With lies and regrets_

_O'er a century old_

I made his death as painless as possible.

Surely, he did not know.

He could not have seen the man behind me, Kimimaro, who shadows his every move. The man who was once beloved and kind, who was once revered as a hero.

Maybe I once bore the name of Uchiha Itachi, but I am that man no longer. I have entirely abandoned him, entirely forgotten him, but still he tries to haunt me so, tries to pull me back from the path I have taken.

I am Kimimaro.

There is no one else.

My soul is mine and mine alone.

Uchiha Itachi has not existed for a long time.

...

...

...

Sasuke? Are you out there, too?

* * *

Three-hundred years.

Three-hundred years since I seized control of this world and my kingdom.

Three-hundred years and I am still here while others before and after me have long passed.

I like to think that Akaashi and Mei have long gone to Nirvana, joining the other souls. Surely, they won't be born in my wasteland, under my rule. But sometimes, I am not so sure. I look at the executioner who serves me and I see Akaashi; I look at my minister and I see Mei.

I see Sasori and Deidara.

But they are not lovers. Not in this time.

Population? Dwindling. Around twenty-thousand right now, I'm willing to bet.

The world is shaping up to end with a whimper, and not a bang like Deidara had once believed.

Why?

Why do I insist on doing this?

...

Why does anything happen?

* * *

Today, I am going to drown myself in the lake.

The water is as black and bitter as the blind man's song.

_Oh, Uchiha Prince so lonely_

It's dark down here.

_Sitting at the top on a skeleton throne_

I can't even see the moon.

_Presiding a kingdom as brittle as bone_

If I could meet you all again—

_Imagine a boy so cruel as to rule_

If I could be reborn...

_With lies and regrets_

If I could be reborn...

_O'er a century old_

If I could be reborn, I'd—


End file.
